


Teaching Draco A Lesson

by iamisaac



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Spanking, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-war AU. Remus is alive (and single) and working at Hogwarts. Draco is still very much a Malfoy, and needs a lesson in manners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teaching Draco A Lesson

“If you misbehave, then you need to be punished,” Remus said calmly.

He watched a flurry of emotions cross Draco’s face: arrogant indignation, humiliation, and not a little fear. The last softened Remus’s heart a bit. Draco’s belief that as a Malfoy he was above punishment had taken a bit of a battering during the time Voldemort had been in residence at Malfoy Manor. He still could barely believe that a despised creature such as Remus Lupin would dare to threaten him with punishment, but knowing that Remus had the authority to do so, and knowing precisely how far the term ‘punishment’ could be stretched if required… Draco was afraid. He needn’t be. It was his pride Remus intended to hurt, not his body – or not much.

“I do not feel,” said Draco stiffly, “that I have done anything which requires punishment.”

“That,” said Remus, “is precisely the problem. You do not gain any assistance from having an old wizarding name in this new society – indeed,” he added, pointedly, “in the circumstances it would perhaps be wiser not to mention it over often. Rudeness, especially to a teacher, whatever your personal views of their worth, is unacceptable.”

In truth, it mattered precious little to Remus to be called ‘half-blood’ or ‘animal’ – a lifetime living as a werewolf had inured him to most insults. What was important was that this 18 year old brat got it into his smooth blond head that he was not going to rule the post-Voldemort wizarding world in the same smug, superior fashion Malfoys had been doing up until this point. The nature of the punishment Remus had decided on was perhaps unusual, given Draco’s age, but he felt that it would make the point satisfactorily.

“Yes, Professor.” There was a sulky stress on the second word, but also still that look of caution in Draco’s eyes.

“I expect,” said Remus conversationally, “that it has been many years since you were last spanked, but as it does not seem to have taught you the lessons about politeness you should have learned as a child, it is clearly necessary to administer a reminder.”

Draco raised his head at that, flushed with indignation. “You’re going to… you think you can -” He ran out of words in his fury, so Remus finished the sentence for him.

“Spank you. Yes. I believe twenty smacks should suffice on this occasion.”

“B-b-but you can’t!”

Remus could not help being amused by Draco’s palpable sense of outrage. “Actually,” he corrected. “I can. Now, lie over my lap, please. You can hold on to the edge of the desk to keep yourself still.”

“I won’t!” Draco was getting redder and redder in the face with rage and humiliation. All sense of appropriate behaviour had left him.

The more the boy ranted, the calmer Remus felt. It was more and more entertaining to watch Draco lose touch with all his well-taught lessons of polite behaviour.

“Unless you want me to increase the number of spanks, you can and will do so right now,” he said sharply. “I need not remind you that I can ensure that you obey me; however, I can’t help thinking that it would be less humiliating for you to cooperate willingly.”

Draco looked at Remus. Remus met his gaze steadily. It was Draco’s eyes which dropped first. Distinctly unwillingly, but nonetheless of his own volition, he moved forward and draped himself over Remus’s lap. It was unsettlingly warm having Draco lie there. Remus hadn’t quite realised what a physical experience it would be. Draco wriggled slightly – and that brought with it a highly unwanted reaction from Remus’s body. Gritting his teeth a little, he forced his mind back to the task at hand.

“Right. Count the strokes please.” Remus raised his hand and brought it down sharply across Draco’s clothed arse. Draco made a small noise of indignation. “Count, please,” Remus said again. He added, “Any stroke you do not count will be repeated until you do.”

“One,” said Draco crossly, his voice slightly muffled by his position.

“Thank you.”

Remus delivered the second blow. The smacks were hard enough to sting, and to ensure that Draco would return to his Common Room with a sore, pink arse; however, they were not vicious.

“Two.”

“Good boy.”

Draco tensed at those words, clearly finding them insulting. Remus, who hadn’t meant them that way, nonetheless saw his pupil’s point. He slapped him again.

“Three.” And again. “Four.” And again. “Five.”

Remus’s palm was tingling - not unpleasantly, but enough to make him conscious of it. He wondered if Draco’s arse felt similarly.

Slap. “Six.” Slap. “Seven.”

Draco wriggled suddenly, quite firmly. Remus strongly wished he wouldn’t. He had intended this as a humiliating punishment, nothing more, but a lapful of warm, wriggling Draco was going to have a very different effect on his body if he wasn’t careful.

“Lie still.”

Draco gave a sulky sort of sniff, and stayed still. Remus delivered three more spanks and wished he had settled on ten strokes, not twenty. Draco continued to count, though his voice was beginning to wobble a little. Remus wondered guiltily whether he was hurting the boy more than he had intended to.

“Eleven. Twelve.” Draco was clearly very uncomfortable. He did not appear to be able to stay still. “Th-thirteen. P-please can we stop now?” Draco asked urgently.

The request took Remus aback. Was he really causing Draco so much pain that he was ready to plead for an end? Draco wriggled once more, and with a jolt, Remus realised what his problem was. There was a hard lump digging into Remus’s thigh, which had not been there at the beginning of the spanking. Remus reminded himself firmly that Draco was a teenage boy, able to produce an erection at any and all moments. Nonetheless, it was an interesting reaction; and clearly to Draco an extremely unwelcome one. Remus, on the other hand, found it rather more appealing than he cared to think about: having a hard and humiliated young man across his lap was by no means the worst thing that had happened to him in his life.

“No,” he said uncompromisingly. He would pretend not to have noticed Draco’s situation: that was only reasonable. However, the boy would have to complete his punishment. Perhaps it would make him think _much_ more carefully before insulting a teacher again. 

Remus gave him another spank.

“Fourteen.” Draco’s voice was breathless.

The next. “Fifteen.”

Draco squirmed some more on Remus’s lap, and Remus wondered for the first time whether Draco was trying to get off… or _get off_.

“Lie still,” he said again, more firmly. 

If Draco continued like this, the boy wasn’t going to be the only one sporting an inconvenient erection; and it was much less acceptable for a teacher to get hard administering punishment than it was for a pupil to become so whilst receiving it. He delivered the sixteenth slap, but Draco did not speak. His hands were holding the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

“Count. And stop wriggling.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Draco whined.

Remus was tempted to let him off. Very tempted. It would be much easier for both of them to stop at this point and ignore the contretemps. The problem was, this was Draco Malfoy, who had been getting away with far too much for far too long. Letting him go now would just prove to him that he could indeed continue to go on just as he always had done. Remus was intrinsically good natured, but he had suffered a lot at the hands of the Malfoys and people like them, and he was not prepared to go on in the same vein. He smacked Draco again, a little harder. Draco made a little noise as the blow pushed him more firmly against Remus’s leg. He rubbed up against Remus in a fashion which was definitely not an attempt at escape.

“Draco Malfoy, stop it.”

Draco apparently wasn’t listening. Instead he was rocking back and forth against Remus’s leg, his breathing rushed and heaving. Remus was at a loss: either he let Draco get on with it, or – or what? He’d had plenty of jobs in his life, but none of them had equipped him with the knowledge of what to do when a pupil started rubbing themselves off on you. Strangely enough. Slightly panicked, and having to resist the urge to move his own hips in time with Draco’s movements, he smacked him three more times, quickly; and then stood up, making Draco fall to the ground.

“Right,” he said, trying to keep his voice and manner even. “That is twenty. I hope you have learned your lesson.”

Draco, clearly only beginning to realise what he had nearly been doing, clambered to his feet in a rather untidy fashion – very unlike the suave poise he usually had. He couldn’t look at Remus, about which Remus was rather grateful, because he really didn’t want to meet Draco’s eyes either.

“I didn’t count the last five,” Draco mumbled, his hand twitching as he tried to stop himself touching his engorged cock.

“No,” said Remus dryly. “Apparently you are still not very good at keeping rules.”

Draco’s eyes flicked up to his face and back down again. “M-maybe you will need to punish me again,” he suggested.

Remus swallowed, trying not to think about how much he would enjoy having a lapful of Draco Malfoy on many another occasion. The right answer – the good answer – was no. In fact, he said quietly:

“Perhaps I will.”


End file.
